While the Heart Beats Young

"Here. Wadin' in the crick," she called. "Come on in."

She splashed gleefully about as her brother came into sight and walked
with mock dignity through the meadow to the stream. He held his red-
crowned head high and sang teasingly, "Manda, Manda, red-headed Manda;
tee-legged, toe-legged, bow-legged Manda!"

"Philip Reist," she shouted crossly, "I am not! My legs are
straighter'n yours! You dare, you just dare once, to come in the crick
and say that and see what you get!"

Although two years her junior he accepted the challenge and repeated
the doggerel as he planted his bare feet in the water. She splashed him
and he retaliated, but the boy, though smaller, was agile, and in an
unguarded moment he caught the girl by the wrists and pushed her so she
sat squarely in the shallow waters of the brook.

"Hey, smarty," he exulted impishly as he held her there, "you will get
fresh with me, you will, huh?"

"Phil, let me up, leave me go, I'm all wet."

"Now, how did that happen, I wonder. My goodness, what will Mamma say?"
he teased.

"Phil," the girl half coaxed, but he read a desire for revenge in her
face.

"Jiminy Christmas, don't cry." He puckered up his lips in imitation of
a whimpering girl. "Got enough?"